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H e v o t e d t o t h e Intex*estis o f tliie ' ^ o l i i i e r s a n d ofthe l a t e "Wax-.
TOL 1. HARTFORD, c o m . , JfOVEMBER 28,4868. m. 21
XI
The following appropriate and well-written poom was
nreparod for tho RECORD W Private J. T. Forrest, late of
Co.^. 165th Begiuiont N. X. Vols., who has contributed
many accoptablo articles for numerous journals through-out
the country. The butt of a rebel musket first furnish-ed
inspiration—his earliest production being prepared
irhile profitratel among the dead and dying. Since that
Itoe he has written frequently and pointedly. Gur friends
om^y expect to recpive further evidences of his talent.
Ed. KlccoiBD'
THE FINAL VICTORY.
BY PRIVATE JOHN T. F0RRB8T,
Ho I Preston, Hampton, ye who led
The rebds in clays gone by to plunder,
Have you heard what the voice of the North hath said,
The "Natioii's verdict," in tones of thunder?
You would save tho flags you in battle bore;
The Soi'tliern cause was uot dead but sleeping
And you'd open again the ghastly sore
In the hearts bereft, foi? their lost ones weeping.
What say you, have we recreant grown?
Have the hands which smote ye lost their power 1
Eat we Vhuinble pie" neath the Southern throne ?
Do we shrmk when our masters birow may lower 1
18 the starry Wner to.n and tossed.
In the filthy mire, to be trodden; under ?
Has policy gained what tho sword has lost,
And the Union by fraud been rent assunder 1
Must the negroes again feel the deadly wh^,
While in broken pride their poor spirit? languish.
As adown their bodies the red drops drip
Till their great hearts break with mortal anguish ?
Is this the news that the wire now brings ?
Your unrighteous cause,, how has it speeded 1
Have your curses availed with tho King of Kings 1
Are the prayers we seiit to Heaven unheeded?
No, God is God, and Heaven is just:
To doubt his truth would be worse than treason i
R^aid sevenfold is our patient trust,
For the right has triumphed in His own season.
Worse than Sennacherib's host of old
Has the cause by traitors raided been scattered,
The hell- born hopes they indulged are cold,
Their outworks stormed and their fortress shattered.
Come ye who fought by Potomac's side.
And ye who fought by Red Rivers' waters;
The "Union's Soldiers," the nation's pride,
Well-fitted mates for Columbia's daughters
Raise high in air each shell-torn flag.
Your foreheads bow, and your head uncover,
And swear ye again that no rebel rag
In our sky of blue shall triumphant hover.
'Tis well; God smileth approving down, »
His aeflfis will shield our Nation's honor;
We will make of the flowers of peace a crown
And with grateful hearts will bind it on her.
A moment more, and we stood with One morning in mid-winter, I persua-bowed
head and tearful eyes by the grave ded Lena to go on an errand down town
of Edith, our only child. How ray moth- for me, merely to get her out to breathe
er-heart cried out to hold my baby treas-1 the fresh, bracing uir, for I feared before
ure again to my breast, to soothe the an- spring came she would go to meet her
guish there. But no, God had called, and dear one whose absence she continually
my angel had flown to the skies. mourned. So, wrapping her well in
" Jessie, darling," said Harry, as he warm cloaks and furs, I kissed her
twined a tiny wreath around the little gaily and told her not to return until
monument," one thing I wish to say to she could bring some roses back in her
you. If ever there is, another grave away-down
South, don't mourn because of it as
you have for this. God's ways are right
and just, and the reunion above is worth
the anguish of parting here."
" Oh, Harry, I will try. God help me."
mxs at lome.
Joy Cometh In The Morning.
A STORY OP THE WAR.
" A letter for you, Jessie."
My husband's voice awake me from the
dream-like revery in which I had been for
an hour indulging, and I started up sud-denly,
exclaiming—
" Why, Harry, home so soon ? I did
not expect you for an hour yet."
" I hardly hoped to come now, but the
business at camp was arranged sooner
than I supposed it could be, and every
moment at home with you seems precious."
There was a sadness in his voice which
I had seldom heard before, and I saic.
hurriedly—
" What is it, Harry, tell me! Is there
any—why did you speak so ?"
" The regiment moves to-morrow, Jes-sie."
" Oh, Harry, so soon as that ?" I ex-claimed,
bursting into tears.
" Captain Willard's little wife must be
a brave woman now, in the hour of trial
You knew we were to go soon."
" Yes, but I supposed not for a week
yet. Oh Harry! I can't have it so."
" But it is just so. To-morrow wo are
ordered to the field. But come, Jessie
don't cry any more. Get your hat, and
let's go down to the river once more, and
—and to the graveyard."
Mechanically 1 followed ray husband
down the gravelled walk that wound so
curiously by beds of roses and tulips,
thinking of the time, three years before,
when Harry first brought me, his " child
wife," to this dear little home-nest. That
was a joyous day to me ; but now the feel-ing
of desolation that came over mo was
terrible. Without a word we stood by
the river, watching its clear waters as they
rushed on—on, not stopping to rest for a
moment. Oh, how they mocked my sor-row
! and I strove to shut out the sound of
their noisy dashing.
The next morning I stood a little apart
from the weeping crowd that had gathered
to see the " boys in blue " depart, praying
very earnestly for strength to be strong.
How noble he looked to me—-my young
msband—s^tanding in the midst of his men,
with a kind Word foron6, and the pressure
of the hand for another, seeming fully to
realize the preciousness of the charge
committed to his keeping, even the idols
of loving hearts How I clung to the arm
that was for a moment thrown protectingly
around me. Very tender were the few
whispered words of parting.
" Good-by, Jessie, dear little wife. Try
to be very brave."
That was all. Another moment and
they were gone, some of tnem never to re -
turn.
The next day, on entering the parlor,
my eye fell on the still unopened letter
which Harry had brought n)e. How
strange of me to forget it, I thought, as I
opened the envelope. It was from mother,
and read thus-:
Jessie, My Dear Girl,—Your cousin,
Lena Spencer, is here, and wishes to go
to you. She has just lost her only broth-er,
in the army, and is nearly frantic with
grief. Be very tender to her. She will
start from here Wednesday, the 25th, and
reach your place at six o'clock. All are
well. MOTHER.
"Poor Lena! Fatherless, motherless
and brotherless—^yes I will be very tender
of her," I said to myselt. And I wept at
the thought of my noble cousin, Frank—
so " handsome, brave and grand," I al-ways
thought him—lying so far from us,
" away down South."
That night she came. I could hardly
recognize in that pale-faced, sad-looking
girl my queenly cousin Lena. Her clear,
ringing voice was low and sad, and the
tears stood in her eyes continually, ready
to overflow at the mere mention of his
name. She wept piteously when I spoke
of Frank, but finally told me how bravely
he had enlisted, and left all for his coun-try
; had been twice wounded, but refused
to leave his post; and finally in the last
battle, had been sent with a detachment of
men to recover a battery which had been
lost, was repulsed, and fell while his men
were retreating, and that his body had
been found by his comrades and buried in
the night.
" I hoped it was all a delusion," she
said to me that night, as I sat by her bed-side,
holding her hand. " I thought it
could not be so, but now I am convinced
that it is all true. Oh, Jessie, pity me,
for this has left mo very desolate."
soothe tho
cheeks. Almoijit for the first time i she
smiled at my mirthfulness, and then went
quietly out, while I with a whispered
prayer for her, returned to my sewing.
I In a few moments, Kate, my kitchen
girl, put her head in at the door, saying:
"Sure, Mrs. Willard, and there's a man
wants to see you—a soger boy, wid a
crutch. He's awful pretty, though, wid
just the blackest eyes ! Don't you wish
'twas the Capt'n widout the crutch ?"
"Ask him to come in,Katie."
In another moment a tall manly form
came through the door, and a voice that
I koew so v/ell said, in a low tone :
"Thank God, cousin Jessie, that I see,
you once more. Where is my sister ?"
It was the long lost Frank, who h^d
been in our hearts all these long, weary
months.
" Have you risen from the dead ? " was
all I could say.
"No, only risen from a rebel prison."
I led him to the parlor sofa, and in a
few hurried words he told me how he
was found by a rebel ambulance driver,
and carried by him to the hospital, from
thence to prison. A few days before he
had been exchanged, and went on the
first train to his home in 0 . Not find-ing
Lena there, he had learned of her
whereabouts and came in quest of her.
"She will be here soon," I said, "and
this will be too much for her. Wo must
deal very carefully with her, for she can-not
stand too great a surprise."
, He wept when I told him how pale and
thin she had grown, mourning for him.
A moment more and 1 heard her slow,
weary footfall along the hall; and closing
the door securely, I passed out as though
nothing unusual had occurred.
"Dear Jessie," she said, "this walk has
done me so much good I must go every
day."
She was standing in her own room,
removing her gloves as I entered. She
did not look up but said :
" I have letters from Capt. Willard, and
a number of others, I believe. Here they
are. But, Jessie,why do you tremble so ?
Is anything the matter ?"
"I am afraid you cannot bear it if I
tell you."
" What i§ it ? I can bear anything now.
"Lena, Frank is not dead, as we sup-posed,
but has been a prisoner, and has
come back to us again,"
" I thought you spoke of Frank," she
said, absently, putting her hand to her
head, and looldng very pale ; "did you
say Frank ? What about him Jessie V
"Down stairs," was all I could say
In a moment the faint foreshadowings of
the truth burst upon her ; she fell bait-fainting
upon his bosom
Dear reader, far away on a Southern
battle-field is a lowly grave, and at its
head a wooden slab, on which is inscri-bed:—"
Captain Harry Willard, 8th Reg't
fell at ." And although I monrn
I did all in my power to
strickened girl, tried to speak cheerfully
of things which were happening around for that lost love, I thankfully remember
us ; but she seemed to forget everything
but her own great sorrow.
Days and weeks glided by. Autumn
came with its golden beauty ; and still
Lena Spencer grew thinner and paler
that "Weeping may endure lor a mo
ment,but joy comethin the morning."
KELLOGG.
s the surviving soldier of the regiment
every day. Night after night she would | marshals the scenes of the past, and bids
«nlilifii«soU"+n cl(.fir> in mv n.vm!^ fiTid sob herself to sleep in my arms and ddunrriinnfgl ' tthheemm pnaassss iinn rreevviiefiww oovveerr tthhee ffiieelldd ooff hhiiss
her troubled dreams would call piteously memory, he is sure to observe one per-for
Frank to come to her. At length win- sonage who towerf« like Saul tho son of
ter came to us, cold and cheerless—dreary Kish above his fellows, and wiio moves
as were all things around us. We forgot amid the giiostly throng with inefiable
everything about us ; only our dear ones majesty. 'I'hat proud form was not seen
away in the Southern land we remember- in the battle of Winchester. That bold
ed-^one,living as yet, thank God!—the rider did not lead tho charge at Fisher's
other sleeping on the battle-field. Hill. That soldier know hothing of the' his comities foes.
loss and recovery of the day at Cedar Creek.
He heard not the shout when the regiment
broke the enemy's lines at Petersburg.
The sods of a new year had begun, to be
green above his grave when l.ee surren-dered
unconditionally, and the whole fab-ric
of rebellion tumbled ui ruin, And
yet there is not g. scene, a day, nor a mem-pry,
from Camp Dutton to Grapevine
Point, that can be wholly divested of
! iELLOGa Like the ancient eastern King,
who suddenly died on the eve of an engage-ment,
and whose remains were bolstered
up in warlike attitude in his chariot, and
followed by his enthusiastic soldiers to
battle and to victory,—so this mighty lead-er,
although falling in the very first onset,
yet went on through every succeeding
march and fight, and won posthumous
victories for the regiment which may be
said to have been born put of his loins.
Battalion and Company,, officer and pri-vate,
arms and quarterb,. camp and drill,
command and pbediencei honor and duty,
I sprit and excellence, every moral, and
material belonging of the regiment, bore
the impress of his genius.
He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
0 miracle of men! in speech, in gait,
In military rules,-humors of blood.
He was tnemark and glass, copy and book.
That fashioned others.
In the eyes of civilians. Colonel Kellogg
was nothing but a horrid, strutting, shag-gy
monster. But request any one of the
Survivors of the Nineteenth Infantry or
the Second Artillery to name the most
perfect soldier he ever saw, and this will
surely be the man. Or ask him to conjure
up the ideal soldier of his imagination;
still the same figure, complete in feature,
gesture, gauntlet, saber, hoot, spur, obser-vant
eye and commanding, voice, will
stalk with majestic port upon the mental
vision. He seemed the superior of all
superiors, and major generals shrunk into
pigmy corporals in comparison with him.
In every faculty of body, mind, heart and
soul, he was built after a large pattern.
His virtues were large, and his vices were
not small. As Lincoln said of Seward, he
could swear magnificently. His nature
was versatile and full of contradictions ;
sometimes exhibiting the tenderest sensi-bilities,
and sometimes none at all. Now
he would be in the hospital tent, bending
with strea,ming eyes over the victims of
fever, and kissing the, dying Corporal
Webster,—and an hour later would find
him down at the guard house, prying open
the jaws of a refractory soldier with a
bayonet, in order to insert a gag ; or in
anger drilling a battalion, for the fault of
a single man, to the last point of endurance;
or shamefully abusing the most honorable
and faithful officers in the regiment.
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as firo.
But notwithstanding his faults, notwith-standing
his frequent ill treatment of offi-cers
and soldiers, he had a hold upon their
afi'ectioijs such as no other commander
ever had, or could have. The men who
were cursing him one day for tho almost
intolerable rigors of his discipiine, would
in twenty-four hours be throwing up their
caps for him, or subscribing to buy him a
new horse, or petitioning the Governor
not to let him be jumped. The man who
sat on a sharp-backed wooden horse in
front of tho Colonel on drill or parade,
until lie forgot tho pain and disgraco of
his punishment in admiration of the man
who indicted it.
But his commanding skill, and his power
over men, availed nothing at Cold Harbor.
His voice could not silence rdbelguns, and
an ounce of lead laid him low as quickly
as though he had been an impotent drum-mer
boy. At dawn of the next day his
body, majestic even in death, was placed
upon a rubber blanket and borne with la-bor
from tho field ; and as it passed along,
the men looked down with ^-ondor upon
tlie lifeless cluy, half questioning within
themselves whether tho old lion would
not rouse himself and scatter all his and

H e v o t e d t o t h e Intex*estis o f tliie ' ^ o l i i i e r s a n d ofthe l a t e "Wax-.
TOL 1. HARTFORD, c o m . , JfOVEMBER 28,4868. m. 21
XI
The following appropriate and well-written poom was
nreparod for tho RECORD W Private J. T. Forrest, late of
Co.^. 165th Begiuiont N. X. Vols., who has contributed
many accoptablo articles for numerous journals through-out
the country. The butt of a rebel musket first furnish-ed
inspiration—his earliest production being prepared
irhile profitratel among the dead and dying. Since that
Itoe he has written frequently and pointedly. Gur friends
om^y expect to recpive further evidences of his talent.
Ed. KlccoiBD'
THE FINAL VICTORY.
BY PRIVATE JOHN T. F0RRB8T,
Ho I Preston, Hampton, ye who led
The rebds in clays gone by to plunder,
Have you heard what the voice of the North hath said,
The "Natioii's verdict," in tones of thunder?
You would save tho flags you in battle bore;
The Soi'tliern cause was uot dead but sleeping
And you'd open again the ghastly sore
In the hearts bereft, foi? their lost ones weeping.
What say you, have we recreant grown?
Have the hands which smote ye lost their power 1
Eat we Vhuinble pie" neath the Southern throne ?
Do we shrmk when our masters birow may lower 1
18 the starry Wner to.n and tossed.
In the filthy mire, to be trodden; under ?
Has policy gained what tho sword has lost,
And the Union by fraud been rent assunder 1
Must the negroes again feel the deadly wh^,
While in broken pride their poor spirit? languish.
As adown their bodies the red drops drip
Till their great hearts break with mortal anguish ?
Is this the news that the wire now brings ?
Your unrighteous cause,, how has it speeded 1
Have your curses availed with tho King of Kings 1
Are the prayers we seiit to Heaven unheeded?
No, God is God, and Heaven is just:
To doubt his truth would be worse than treason i
R^aid sevenfold is our patient trust,
For the right has triumphed in His own season.
Worse than Sennacherib's host of old
Has the cause by traitors raided been scattered,
The hell- born hopes they indulged are cold,
Their outworks stormed and their fortress shattered.
Come ye who fought by Potomac's side.
And ye who fought by Red Rivers' waters;
The "Union's Soldiers," the nation's pride,
Well-fitted mates for Columbia's daughters
Raise high in air each shell-torn flag.
Your foreheads bow, and your head uncover,
And swear ye again that no rebel rag
In our sky of blue shall triumphant hover.
'Tis well; God smileth approving down, »
His aeflfis will shield our Nation's honor;
We will make of the flowers of peace a crown
And with grateful hearts will bind it on her.
A moment more, and we stood with One morning in mid-winter, I persua-bowed
head and tearful eyes by the grave ded Lena to go on an errand down town
of Edith, our only child. How ray moth- for me, merely to get her out to breathe
er-heart cried out to hold my baby treas-1 the fresh, bracing uir, for I feared before
ure again to my breast, to soothe the an- spring came she would go to meet her
guish there. But no, God had called, and dear one whose absence she continually
my angel had flown to the skies. mourned. So, wrapping her well in
" Jessie, darling," said Harry, as he warm cloaks and furs, I kissed her
twined a tiny wreath around the little gaily and told her not to return until
monument," one thing I wish to say to she could bring some roses back in her
you. If ever there is, another grave away-down
South, don't mourn because of it as
you have for this. God's ways are right
and just, and the reunion above is worth
the anguish of parting here."
" Oh, Harry, I will try. God help me."
mxs at lome.
Joy Cometh In The Morning.
A STORY OP THE WAR.
" A letter for you, Jessie."
My husband's voice awake me from the
dream-like revery in which I had been for
an hour indulging, and I started up sud-denly,
exclaiming—
" Why, Harry, home so soon ? I did
not expect you for an hour yet."
" I hardly hoped to come now, but the
business at camp was arranged sooner
than I supposed it could be, and every
moment at home with you seems precious."
There was a sadness in his voice which
I had seldom heard before, and I saic.
hurriedly—
" What is it, Harry, tell me! Is there
any—why did you speak so ?"
" The regiment moves to-morrow, Jes-sie."
" Oh, Harry, so soon as that ?" I ex-claimed,
bursting into tears.
" Captain Willard's little wife must be
a brave woman now, in the hour of trial
You knew we were to go soon."
" Yes, but I supposed not for a week
yet. Oh Harry! I can't have it so."
" But it is just so. To-morrow wo are
ordered to the field. But come, Jessie
don't cry any more. Get your hat, and
let's go down to the river once more, and
—and to the graveyard."
Mechanically 1 followed ray husband
down the gravelled walk that wound so
curiously by beds of roses and tulips,
thinking of the time, three years before,
when Harry first brought me, his " child
wife," to this dear little home-nest. That
was a joyous day to me ; but now the feel-ing
of desolation that came over mo was
terrible. Without a word we stood by
the river, watching its clear waters as they
rushed on—on, not stopping to rest for a
moment. Oh, how they mocked my sor-row
! and I strove to shut out the sound of
their noisy dashing.
The next morning I stood a little apart
from the weeping crowd that had gathered
to see the " boys in blue " depart, praying
very earnestly for strength to be strong.
How noble he looked to me—-my young
msband—s^tanding in the midst of his men,
with a kind Word foron6, and the pressure
of the hand for another, seeming fully to
realize the preciousness of the charge
committed to his keeping, even the idols
of loving hearts How I clung to the arm
that was for a moment thrown protectingly
around me. Very tender were the few
whispered words of parting.
" Good-by, Jessie, dear little wife. Try
to be very brave."
That was all. Another moment and
they were gone, some of tnem never to re -
turn.
The next day, on entering the parlor,
my eye fell on the still unopened letter
which Harry had brought n)e. How
strange of me to forget it, I thought, as I
opened the envelope. It was from mother,
and read thus-:
Jessie, My Dear Girl,—Your cousin,
Lena Spencer, is here, and wishes to go
to you. She has just lost her only broth-er,
in the army, and is nearly frantic with
grief. Be very tender to her. She will
start from here Wednesday, the 25th, and
reach your place at six o'clock. All are
well. MOTHER.
"Poor Lena! Fatherless, motherless
and brotherless—^yes I will be very tender
of her," I said to myselt. And I wept at
the thought of my noble cousin, Frank—
so " handsome, brave and grand," I al-ways
thought him—lying so far from us,
" away down South."
That night she came. I could hardly
recognize in that pale-faced, sad-looking
girl my queenly cousin Lena. Her clear,
ringing voice was low and sad, and the
tears stood in her eyes continually, ready
to overflow at the mere mention of his
name. She wept piteously when I spoke
of Frank, but finally told me how bravely
he had enlisted, and left all for his coun-try
; had been twice wounded, but refused
to leave his post; and finally in the last
battle, had been sent with a detachment of
men to recover a battery which had been
lost, was repulsed, and fell while his men
were retreating, and that his body had
been found by his comrades and buried in
the night.
" I hoped it was all a delusion," she
said to me that night, as I sat by her bed-side,
holding her hand. " I thought it
could not be so, but now I am convinced
that it is all true. Oh, Jessie, pity me,
for this has left mo very desolate."
soothe tho
cheeks. Almoijit for the first time i she
smiled at my mirthfulness, and then went
quietly out, while I with a whispered
prayer for her, returned to my sewing.
I In a few moments, Kate, my kitchen
girl, put her head in at the door, saying:
"Sure, Mrs. Willard, and there's a man
wants to see you—a soger boy, wid a
crutch. He's awful pretty, though, wid
just the blackest eyes ! Don't you wish
'twas the Capt'n widout the crutch ?"
"Ask him to come in,Katie."
In another moment a tall manly form
came through the door, and a voice that
I koew so v/ell said, in a low tone :
"Thank God, cousin Jessie, that I see,
you once more. Where is my sister ?"
It was the long lost Frank, who h^d
been in our hearts all these long, weary
months.
" Have you risen from the dead ? " was
all I could say.
"No, only risen from a rebel prison."
I led him to the parlor sofa, and in a
few hurried words he told me how he
was found by a rebel ambulance driver,
and carried by him to the hospital, from
thence to prison. A few days before he
had been exchanged, and went on the
first train to his home in 0 . Not find-ing
Lena there, he had learned of her
whereabouts and came in quest of her.
"She will be here soon," I said, "and
this will be too much for her. Wo must
deal very carefully with her, for she can-not
stand too great a surprise."
, He wept when I told him how pale and
thin she had grown, mourning for him.
A moment more and 1 heard her slow,
weary footfall along the hall; and closing
the door securely, I passed out as though
nothing unusual had occurred.
"Dear Jessie," she said, "this walk has
done me so much good I must go every
day."
She was standing in her own room,
removing her gloves as I entered. She
did not look up but said :
" I have letters from Capt. Willard, and
a number of others, I believe. Here they
are. But, Jessie,why do you tremble so ?
Is anything the matter ?"
"I am afraid you cannot bear it if I
tell you."
" What i§ it ? I can bear anything now.
"Lena, Frank is not dead, as we sup-posed,
but has been a prisoner, and has
come back to us again,"
" I thought you spoke of Frank," she
said, absently, putting her hand to her
head, and looldng very pale ; "did you
say Frank ? What about him Jessie V
"Down stairs," was all I could say
In a moment the faint foreshadowings of
the truth burst upon her ; she fell bait-fainting
upon his bosom
Dear reader, far away on a Southern
battle-field is a lowly grave, and at its
head a wooden slab, on which is inscri-bed:—"
Captain Harry Willard, 8th Reg't
fell at ." And although I monrn
I did all in my power to
strickened girl, tried to speak cheerfully
of things which were happening around for that lost love, I thankfully remember
us ; but she seemed to forget everything
but her own great sorrow.
Days and weeks glided by. Autumn
came with its golden beauty ; and still
Lena Spencer grew thinner and paler
that "Weeping may endure lor a mo
ment,but joy comethin the morning."
KELLOGG.
s the surviving soldier of the regiment
every day. Night after night she would | marshals the scenes of the past, and bids
«nlilifii«soU"+n cl(.fir> in mv n.vm!^ fiTid sob herself to sleep in my arms and ddunrriinnfgl ' tthheemm pnaassss iinn rreevviiefiww oovveerr tthhee ffiieelldd ooff hhiiss
her troubled dreams would call piteously memory, he is sure to observe one per-for
Frank to come to her. At length win- sonage who towerf« like Saul tho son of
ter came to us, cold and cheerless—dreary Kish above his fellows, and wiio moves
as were all things around us. We forgot amid the giiostly throng with inefiable
everything about us ; only our dear ones majesty. 'I'hat proud form was not seen
away in the Southern land we remember- in the battle of Winchester. That bold
ed-^one,living as yet, thank God!—the rider did not lead tho charge at Fisher's
other sleeping on the battle-field. Hill. That soldier know hothing of the' his comities foes.
loss and recovery of the day at Cedar Creek.
He heard not the shout when the regiment
broke the enemy's lines at Petersburg.
The sods of a new year had begun, to be
green above his grave when l.ee surren-dered
unconditionally, and the whole fab-ric
of rebellion tumbled ui ruin, And
yet there is not g. scene, a day, nor a mem-pry,
from Camp Dutton to Grapevine
Point, that can be wholly divested of
! iELLOGa Like the ancient eastern King,
who suddenly died on the eve of an engage-ment,
and whose remains were bolstered
up in warlike attitude in his chariot, and
followed by his enthusiastic soldiers to
battle and to victory,—so this mighty lead-er,
although falling in the very first onset,
yet went on through every succeeding
march and fight, and won posthumous
victories for the regiment which may be
said to have been born put of his loins.
Battalion and Company,, officer and pri-vate,
arms and quarterb,. camp and drill,
command and pbediencei honor and duty,
I sprit and excellence, every moral, and
material belonging of the regiment, bore
the impress of his genius.
He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
0 miracle of men! in speech, in gait,
In military rules,-humors of blood.
He was tnemark and glass, copy and book.
That fashioned others.
In the eyes of civilians. Colonel Kellogg
was nothing but a horrid, strutting, shag-gy
monster. But request any one of the
Survivors of the Nineteenth Infantry or
the Second Artillery to name the most
perfect soldier he ever saw, and this will
surely be the man. Or ask him to conjure
up the ideal soldier of his imagination;
still the same figure, complete in feature,
gesture, gauntlet, saber, hoot, spur, obser-vant
eye and commanding, voice, will
stalk with majestic port upon the mental
vision. He seemed the superior of all
superiors, and major generals shrunk into
pigmy corporals in comparison with him.
In every faculty of body, mind, heart and
soul, he was built after a large pattern.
His virtues were large, and his vices were
not small. As Lincoln said of Seward, he
could swear magnificently. His nature
was versatile and full of contradictions ;
sometimes exhibiting the tenderest sensi-bilities,
and sometimes none at all. Now
he would be in the hospital tent, bending
with strea,ming eyes over the victims of
fever, and kissing the, dying Corporal
Webster,—and an hour later would find
him down at the guard house, prying open
the jaws of a refractory soldier with a
bayonet, in order to insert a gag ; or in
anger drilling a battalion, for the fault of
a single man, to the last point of endurance;
or shamefully abusing the most honorable
and faithful officers in the regiment.
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as firo.
But notwithstanding his faults, notwith-standing
his frequent ill treatment of offi-cers
and soldiers, he had a hold upon their
afi'ectioijs such as no other commander
ever had, or could have. The men who
were cursing him one day for tho almost
intolerable rigors of his discipiine, would
in twenty-four hours be throwing up their
caps for him, or subscribing to buy him a
new horse, or petitioning the Governor
not to let him be jumped. The man who
sat on a sharp-backed wooden horse in
front of tho Colonel on drill or parade,
until lie forgot tho pain and disgraco of
his punishment in admiration of the man
who indicted it.
But his commanding skill, and his power
over men, availed nothing at Cold Harbor.
His voice could not silence rdbelguns, and
an ounce of lead laid him low as quickly
as though he had been an impotent drum-mer
boy. At dawn of the next day his
body, majestic even in death, was placed
upon a rubber blanket and borne with la-bor
from tho field ; and as it passed along,
the men looked down with ^-ondor upon
tlie lifeless cluy, half questioning within
themselves whether tho old lion would
not rouse himself and scatter all his and